Lost at Sea.

Nobody seems to understand why I’ve shut myself away. I’m quiet, not my loud, talking self. My thoughts consume 90% of my day, leaving me to be “normal” for the 10%. They get into their heads and they think it has to do with me when it really doesn’t.

I lost the person who made half of me. Lost the person who I looked up to my entire life. Lost the person who guided me, protected me, loved me, and cared for me. Lost the person who taught me to take no shit, but to love wholeheartedly and nothing less.

I am a mess. I don’t know where my compass is leading me now. I don’t know who to call when my head is just a continuous crashing wave of thoughts. I’m completely lost at sea. I’m aware I’m struggling and I’m aware of letting people in to help me. But why does it feel like I need to be hanging off the edge, screaming, to get someone to listen? Maybe I’m angry. Angry at them, myself, the world. I’m angry that I have no one else to run to who will just look at me and understand, the way my Dad did.

No one ever will the way he did.

Life keeps moving but it’s like I’m shoving my feet into the sand but the waves keep pulling me back. It’s moving too fast for me to collect any idea of what I’m doing.

I’m struggling, I’m grieving, I’m processing. I knew I was going to fall down this black hole at one point. I’m allowing myself to fall apart, but I’ve probably lost a few pieces along the way.

-K.